STORMS // Sam Kiszka

Two

The next day arose, and Eliza was getting ready to leave for her shift. The Docherty's lived a while outside of Flint, so Eliza had to drive for around half an hour to get to work on time. She passed her younger brother who was sitting at the kitchen table eating his usual Friday breakfast of toast with jam on, "Hey Stew-Ball, what are you up to?"

"1. Don't call me that and 2. I'm on my DS, what does it look like?" He responded bluntly. Stewart was a typical pre-pubescent ten-year-old and had a weird mix of an American accent and a Scottish one, which she had grown to love. She loved him, but she loved annoying him more. He was very easily wound up.

She sauntered past and looked in the cupboard for the poptarts, before realising the time. "Shit, it's 9:40! I'm going to be late!"

"Eliza, its not lady-like to swear y'know." Stew replied seriously.

"Lucky I'm not a lady then," She shrugged, grabbed an apple and ruffled his hair, "Bye, weirdo."

With that, she rushed out of the kitchen door into the garden towards her little, old car. She could only go so fast in that rusty thing, so she needed to be quicker than ever.

"You're going to be late, Lizzy!" She heard her dad gardening from behind her. A stern man with a long, grey beard and who wore woolly jumpers even in the summer and could scare a bear off with a glance, but was secretly a huge melt. He was sensitive, was all. He had the right to be.

"I know, dad!"

"Be careful then! See you later!" Eliza got in her car and rushed to work without anymore discussions.

Miraculously, she made it to the record store with two minutes to spare and sighed, dumping her bag on the counter. The store was basically empty, with just a few regular music fanatics coming to check what was newly in stock every so often. She liked how peaceful it was and how much it felt like Edinburgh on a summers day. It was that type of vintage, un-Flinty style that she wasn't used to now that they had moved. Along with photographs, this was Eliza's last connection to her home. Partially the reason she was still at the job two years later. The other reason that joined Marcello Dean at the start of her senior year of high school in Michigan was to save up a fuck-ton of money to make amazing memories and to travel like she always wanted to, yet her ambitions always seem far out of her grasp.

"Lizzy, are you okay? You seem a bit tense." She heard her old boss say as he walked up beside her, leaning on the counter.

"Yeah, a little. I'm just tired." She sighed, snapping out of her daydream.

He looked at her with tired, knowing eyes, "You've been working a lot. If you want to take a break just tell me, bella."

"Its okay, you don't have to worry- "

"-Just let me know" He interrupted, reiterating that if Eliza was feeling stressed that he should tell her instead of keeping it in all the time. He knew what she was like. The truth was, Eliza was tense. She was tense because nothing was as she'd hoped it would be. She hadn't travelled yet or met anyone or made friends. It was tiring being a side character in her own world, she was supposed to be the main event, the protagonist. Yet there was always someone better and for a while Eliza had come to accept it, but she was becoming impatient.

She noticed his number hidden under piles of old documents which lay beneath the desk as she sat tapping her fingers in boredom. It was sticking out like a sore thumb that she just couldn't get out of her sight. She had tossed and turned in her sleep that night, thinking about whether she should have texted him, but she let it go. Sam was pretty and seemed interesting, but Eliza just couldn't do it and risk letting someone new into her life, not in the way she though he was insinuating, especially when the only people she did have were her family and Marcello, which just showed how successful she was at making friends. But maybe it was time to open up again? After all, it could help her be more adventurous. Her mum had always told her she needed to take more risks.

She heard the bell ring as usual and greeted the customer with just a quick glance up from her phone. Her obsession seemed silly in the grand scheme of things; staring at tiny pixels, longing to look like them but only when they were bundled together to create a fusion of the perfect attributes. Like Frankenstein's monster, but digital. The only way that could be facilitated was through her old, clunky iPhone she'd had since she came to America, bought by her dad as a sort of 'sorry for moving you to Michigan' gift. Her tone of voice perked up only slightly as she welcomed them like a reflex, "Hi, welcome to Dean's Records. If you need me give me a shout."

"Good album by the way."

Oh. It was Sam and he was standing smiling in front of her, his hands awkwardly positioned in the pockets of his Levi's.

Eliza quickly built up courage when she saw him and raised her eyebrows, "Favourite song?

"Storms" He replied. They were facing each other, encapsulated in the unforeseen encounter, and undeniably smiling like idiots.

"Great choice, but I'd have to say you're wrong." Eliza crossed her arms, "It's most definitely Over and Over."

He looked at her up and down, "Whatever you say, Eliza" She was slightly surprised he remembered her name, but she wasn't complaining, "and hey, why didn't you call me yesterday?"

Oh. Eliza internally cringed, wishing now that she had picked up the phone -that she was almost always on- and just given him a call. Their gaze to each other broke and she looked to the cash register avoidantly, "I was busy."

Sam chuckled and looked around the void store, "It sure looks like it."

There was no avoiding this situation. Sam had asked her and Eliza needed to explain to him why she'd discarded his note so briskly, "I never get asked out for coffee very often."

"Listen, its fine. Just a friendly gesture." He said simply, trying to find the right words to say. Of course that's what it was. How could it be anything more than a friendly gesture? How could anyone think of her as more than that?  

She nodded her head slowly and as she was about to speak, Marcello shouted from the back, "Lizzy! Can you give me hand please?"

She smiled at him yet again, her eyes shiny with a rueful tint, "I better go."

Sam gave her a slightly too cheery okay and pointed his fingers like guns trying to shoot their shot, then immediately regretted it, feeling cringe flow through his lungs as he breathed in sharply. He didn't know how long she was going to be but he didn't want to leave yet. He didn't want to leave her recommendations or her funny dances just yet. So he mingled for a while, doing what he did the day before with his brother Josh, except this time he had no motive other than to see her again. He didn't care for records or posters or the ever-changing incense that grazed his nostrils every time he walked past its flow. He wanted someone musically inclined to chill and have coffee with. A new friend. That was all. 

Eliza reached the backroom where Marcello sat smoking his 567th cigar of the day, his droopy face, furrowed grey brows and a newspaper sat in his hand. She coughed like she was in a smoke sauna, which grabbed his attention. Why was she here? Was she being fired? Surely not. Oh dear.

 "Close the door, Lizzy."

---

hey there bbys

and no ive not changed her name to bella. it means beautiful in Italian lol.

have a great day!

what do you guys think so far?

-plantmumxx